


Waking Nostalgia

by Tatami_Hokes



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, One Shot, adam being a sad cinnamon bun, ronan being completely out of his depth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5753419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatami_Hokes/pseuds/Tatami_Hokes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam has a nightmare about his father, but rather than waking to his empty room, he wakes to Ronan and his sprawling tattoo and his surprisingly comforting words. Maybe he isn't so unknowable after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Nostalgia

_He remembered a night where the light next to the bathroom door hung by a thread of wire. It flickered when heavy feet walked under it, causing the wire to disconnect. He heard his father coming down the hallway, saw the light flicker, and in those few minutes of darkness, he’d never been more terrified. The sort of fear that pulled his heart from his chest, the breath from his lungs, something creeping up his spine. He backed up to the wall, looking anywhere but at his father’s heaving figure. He felt the smooth, plastic wall beneath his fingers, saw the florescence of the light flickering back on, and how a fly tapped against the bulb, and how palpable his breath was, heavy in his throat and he had to swallow it back down and-_

_He always expected it, the first punch thrown, but he could never predict exactly when it would come. The shock made him reel back, trying with every breath to melt into the side of the trailer, to become something that couldn’t be hurt. His cheek burned hot, somewhere under the skin, his teeth were numb._

_The next hit had him tumbling, knocking against the lamp on the way down, the smash of the glass shade was muted and further instilled his father’s rage. Through his lashes, he saw his mother standing, feet restless. There was a hope that she may intervene, but he knew she held no more sway over his father than he did. They were both his pitiful victims._

_The glass bit into his palms, but hurt less than the rage behind his father’s fists, than the intent to harm his own son._

_He remembered standing in the shower under cold water, looking down at his body and wondering why. He numbly watched his blood swirl and mingle with the water in the shower tray and wash away down the drain. He thought that perhaps with the blood gone, it might have meant the evidence was removed, but he knew he’d wake up with bruises in the colors of a stormy sky. He wished his father would hit him somewhere he could hide it, so that Gansey and Ronan wouldn’t look at him. He would squirm under their pitying gazes, he knew what they thought. He wasn’t strong enough, it was easier to get hurt, easier to take the rage than to push it back, to provoke it._

_He’d put gloves on to cover his hands, and a butterfly stitch over his nose and he could say that there’d been an accident at work and he’d been treated and he was fine, and he was fine._

_He would look in the mirror and the smell of the forest floor would fill his world, vines would creep over his face, not in pity but to protect._

_He would wake._

 

Ronan had been watching Adam for a while now. He’d woken up with a kick in the side, and flipped onto his stomach, waiting. Adam normally slept like he was catatonic, arms by his side, still. Tonight, however, his fists clenched into the sheets, his back muscles tensed and his eyes flittered under his lids. 

Ronan wanted to wake him, but he found himself watching in horror. Why was this happening? What on earth could he be dreaming about? The answer left a bad taste in his mouth.

He was reaching out to shake Adam awake when he shot upright in bed. He made short, breathy gasps for air, and caught Ronan’s hand, holding it painfully tight, like a lifeline. 

Ronan didn’t talk, but waited while Adam caught his breath, until whatever weaknesses he was showing seeped back into his body and his shoulders slumped forward with the weight of them. He wanted too badly to collect this late night, frail Adam that he so rarely saw into his arms and build him back up again. Hold him together and bring back the satisfied flush to his cheeks that he’d caused before they’d gone to sleep earlier that night.

Instead, he kneeled next to him, and let Adam squeeze the life out of his hands. 

“Sorry.” Adam murmured. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He stared at the sheets, pooling around his hips. His bare back was lit by the cloudy moonlight staring at them through the shuttered blinds. 

Ronan breathed, “Shit.” He fell silent, feeling unmotivated to break it, until he could bear it no longer. “What did-”

“Just a dream.” Adam fell back against the bed with a huff, and Ronan replaced himself beside him. 

While there was an abundance of things that had happened in Adam Parrish’s life that were nightmare worthy, Ronan knew exactly what Adam had dreamt. He’d laid his fears out bare to Adam, without hesitation, but Ronan still had to guess at Adam’s. Ronan was a good guesser. 

"Looked like a shit dream.” He replied finally. His tone was gruff, he’d honestly meant to say something softer and more understanding. 

Adam curled into him, arms clutched to his chest, Ronan’s hand was still in his. “I know that he can’t get to me anymore. I just forget in my dreams.” 

Ronan nodded. He touched the bridge of Adam’s nose, where the bone had fused back together with a slight ridge. He remembered the smattering of bruises like the stains of petals that had been pressed into his skin. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “You’re the only good thing that came from him. I hope he knows that. I hope you know that.” Ronan wished that Robert Parrish was kept awake with the prospect that he was a waste of oxygen and never saw the light of day again. Ronan wished he’d killed Robert Parrish that day. 

“Gelato.” Adam said, burying his head into Ronan’s shoulder.

"What?"

"A date. Let's get gelato together." Adam said breathily, his voice muffled by the pillow. 

Ronan was taken aback. Usually their affections were limited to meetings where no one could see and secret kisses pressed into collarbones. There was no dates, no holding hands, nothing to let people know that Adam Parrish was Ronan Lynch's and vice versa. 

Ronan felt like a secret, one kept by Adam, another part of himself that was unknowable to others. 

Ronan had an idea that it was Robert that made him this way, not this mess with Cabeswater, not what Adam truly wanted. He was holding himself back.

"Sure." Ronan said quietly, scared to seem too exited, scared to reveal that this was what he had wanted. 

"Sorry." He said. Ronan didn't even think Adam knew what he was apologising for. 

"Stop apologising and go to sleep." Ronan reprimanded. 

Adam had always been far away, too far for Ronan to reach. Suddenly, he was catching up and perhaps Adam wasn't such an unknowable thing after all. 


End file.
